


Super Rich Kids

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU-super rich kids, Angst, F/M, M/M, Oneshot, except for niall bc i almost forgot him oops, for zayn it was all about the fall, harry is a secret, harry is stars, harry is the moon, he sleeps with a lot of people, i think he finds what hes looking for though, i was in a weird place writing this, louis is the sun, no consequences, no ramifications, perrie is candyfloss, zayn is looking for something, zayn is restless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:37:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is super filthy rich and likes bright and shiny things, and bright and shiny people<br/>now, he just wants to fall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Rich Kids

**Author's Note:**

> i must warn you that i do not actually own one direction, or know them personally blah blah  
> enjoyyy

**_Noceur_ ( _n_ ): one who sleeps late or not at all; or, one who stays out late to revel or party**

 

Zayn is too hot in his satin sheets, moves away from the girl with the pink candyfloss hair that has nestled into his chest. The room is shadow on grey shadow, shades drawn over his penthouse window. He stretches, groggy but restless, craving a fag and cool air on his skin. His feet find hardwood and the room might be spinning, so he's still drunk probably. He stumbles in the dark, navigating through the remnants of last night on his floor; stains and glass bottles strewn among lace and leather and jewelry, and a girl with candyfloss hair alone on his bed.

He finds himself a little later, cloaked only in a dark grey sky that sits heavy on his bare shoulders, chain-smoking on the veranda with naked legs swinging over the ledge. He watches ashes break off and float down, to disappear forever, and wonders what that would feel like.

 

 

**_Soign_ _e_ ( _adj_ ): possessing an aura of sophistication in dress, manner, or design; presented or prepared with an elegance attained through care for the finer details**

 

The maid arrives when the sun comes up, the embers of his cigarette matching that of the red sun emerging from the ground in front of him. To his back is still a blanket of pale grey, so he flicks his cigarette off of the ledge and turns to go inside.

He draws the curtains, letting the rising sun's dark pinks and reds creep over the room and an empty bed, and he thinks of candyfloss;of how it can be too sweet and gone too soon.

The maid doesn't notice that Zayn's naked, doesn't even see him. She looks down at the floor and he looks down at everything. She is bent over, picking up bottles and broken glass. He is poised and graceful, catlike, striding with purpose.

When he reaches the washroom he lets his shoulders lower, chest deflate. He takes his time in the sauna, letting the hot water run over his pores and squeezing his eyes shut so its only the beating of his heart and rushing water and the fuzzy bright spots in his eyes.

When he's putting on his suit, carefully tailored, sleek and black and fitted, he builds himself back up. The casual smile and practiced posture comes second nature to him as he buttons his shiny new cufflinks.

 

**_Sillage_ ( _n_ ): the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume. **

 

Liam is a drug dealer. He is big brown shifty eyes, tattoos over a thick build. He smells spicy and musty and sweet-a mixture of cologne and pot.

He's a drug dealer with kind eyes and a penchant for ripping Zayn off every time, because Zayn is rich and can afford the most expensive cheap weed.

Zayn is rich and Liam is poor and he rips Zayn off and they both know it, but after the negotiations they lay in a cloud of thoughts and smoke and rub off on each other lazily to porn on the big screen telly in Zayn's home theatre.

And when Liam shows up in the midst of a champagne soaked party they do lines of the expensive stuff (not Liam's) on the edge of Zayn's roof and Liam fucks him hard in the pool, out of their minds and its just hands and cool air and mouths and lapping water until they pass out on the pool steps.

When Zayn awakes, in the quiet dark on the carpet of his theatre, in the grey coldness of his rooftop, his mouth will be dry and his head will pound and he'll take a shower to wash away the sweet musty smell that has clung to his body, a perfect mixture of cologne and pot.

 

**_Velleitie_ ( _n_ ): a wish or powerful desire for something that nonetheless is not or cannot be followed by actions meant to pursue it**

 

The sun is soft and lights Zayn's bare feet as he walks into his art room, and everything surrounding him is golden and warm, even the shadows. Zayn's room is covered in high windows, skylight on his high ceiling, and sometimes he will stand still and gaze at the sun's bright beams revealing fluttering golden dust. When tries to touch, they just move with the push of air his hand brings, like water, and flutter through his fingers. He walks through floating fairy dust and closes his eyes at the warmth, breathes in the stale air that smells like spray paint.

The room is bare, save for the easels and canvases and the cans of spray paint scattered around the floor. The bits of walls between the windows have been painted over multiple times, with names and drawings in glistening strokes. When he comes here it's to paint, yes, but it's more than that.

When he comes here it's so that he can paint candyfloss on the walls and fill the room with the letters L I A and M and its where he can imagine falling in love with something, and imagine that something falling in love back.

 

 _**Appetence** _ **(** _**n** _ **): an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond.**

 

The club he's in is hot and dark, like an oven. It's an oven full of overdressed girls, too much hairspray, and overpriced alcohol. Bodies on bodies press filthily onto each other in the dark. Loud thumping music makes them forget their own hearts, letting their movements follow in time with the sound of bass thrumming through their heads instead. Its dark, and its loud and too hot, and when the lights flash it reveals shiny skin glistening with sweat.

Zayn squeezes through the crowd, pushes through leering men watching the dance floor, ready to pounce, till he reaches the bar. He sits on the only empty barstool on the end and tries to ignore the bodies pressing into his back trying to get the bartender's attention.

The bartender hasn't reached his end before bright blue eyes and sharp cheekbones and a cheeky smile snatch his attention.

 

**_Incalescent_ ( _adj_ ): growing hotter or more ardent; set ablaze**

 

Louis is his name. A beautiful name perfectly befitting this beautiful creature. He is a pixie, he is manic, he is a wildfire. If he said Louis' name out loud he's sure it would heat his tongue and melt into his lips like the mouth of the boy that is doing the same.

They're in a stall and its sweaty and too hot but this time Zayn can't get enough, would let the flames consume him if it meant that this boy would take all of him. Zayn's heart is beating in his ears and this time it's not because of the bass that pumps through them. They're rutting and panting and they can't get close enough, even when Zayn is pressed against the door and Louis' hands are on his neck and everywhere he touches burns skin.

Louis kneels down, unzips Zayn's pants, and pushes his hips down with hot hands. Zayn's body is burning and his head is heavy as he tries not to buck his hips but it's too much and so good and he lets out a cry as he comes hard and fast into Louis' hot mouth and Louis takes it and doesnt stop until its too much and he's oversensitive and whimpers as Louis licks a stripe down his dick slowly, one last time. Louis pulls up Zayn's jeans as he straightens up, pressing his erection against him and their mouths meet again, like fire. Zayn pushes his hand into the crotch of Louis' jeans, but Louis just shakes his head, leads them out of the club and into the night air.

Louis' apartment is just down the street, and its small and the air conditioning is broken and it feels like there's steam emanating from their bodies, but its okay because Louis is the sun and he is consuming Zayn's whole body. So he takes Zayn apart piece by piece until he's writhing and mewling Louis' name like its heating his tongue, melting his lips. And Louis crashes down into him, shuddering Zayn's name as he comes down from his orgasm.

Afterward, they fall next to each other. Louis is radiating heat, but Zayn turns into him, too tired to do anything but hold him and close his eyes, and he thinks he could fall in love with Louis, if he tried.

 

**_Sough_ ( _v_ ): to moan, to rustle, to sigh**

**( _n_ ): the gentle, soothing murmur of wind or water**

 

Zayn is still a little bit drunk as he takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning over the railing of his veranda. The air is a light grey all around him, and he wonders what it might feel like to be the ashes that fall down the edge of the building, floating gently in the breeze.

He lays out on the deck, completely naked as the sky turns red then pink like candyfloss. He climbs to the roof and swims until the sky turns bright blue, the sun too hot on his skin,consuming him. And he thinks about falling in love with something that might love him back one day.

 

**_Rantipole_ ( _n_ / _v_ / _adj_ ): a wild, reckless young person**

 

He meets Harry at a friend's party. They're on the roof and there's champagne spilling over glasses, eyes twinkling with mirth. The sky swallows them up in a deep purple, stars glistening gold like the gods are reveling in the same way, and its all golden and violet and it feels like they're kings and queens of the universe.

Zayn's drunk and hanging off the railing, passing a blunt to a laughing blonde boy and trying to get words out about being the ashes that fall off of buildings, but it's so hard when he's thinking too fast for the words to come out and the blonde boy is laughing and he doesn't even know why but everything is funny.

And he forgets everything at that moment because a tall boy with unruly brown hair turns to face him.

He sees green eyes that twinkle like stars and dimples like craters of the moon and he knows he's gone as the boy smiles and says to him, in a deep slow voice, how he'd be terribly sad if a person as beautiful as Zayn were to fall off the roof like the ashes of a dead fire. Zayn just stares, because the words won't come and the boy is so close now, leaning into him like he has a secret.

The boy picks Zayn up suddenly, and swings him around as if he were light as a feather. The boys sets him down gently, bows, kisses Zayn's hand, asks for this dance. They move to the sound of clinking glasses and laughter, under a purple sky and shining stars. They are the kings of the night.

 

**_Numinous_ ( _adj_ ): describing an experience that makes you fearful yet fascinated. Awed yet attracted-the powerful, personal feelings of being overwhelmed and inspired**

 

They're standing on Zayn's rooftop, all alone but for the moon, low to the ground, like it's too full of the love Zayn feels at this moment. The pale white light is pooled in the exact spot they're standing, like a spotlight. They share breathless kisses like whispered secrets, and it makes Zayn feel more alive than he ever has in his life. Zayn's lips are pressed to Harry's ear and he breathes words without thinking, “I think I could fall in love with you, if I tried.”

Harry's eyes are stars and Zayn doesn't hear what he says back, just knows that he hopes Harry's as gone for him as Zayn is, as he loses himself in another quiet kiss.

 

 _**Nefibilate** _ **(** _ **n**_ **): “cloud-walker” one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams, or one who does not obey the conventions of society, literature, or art.**

 

They're drunk the next night and smoking on his veranda, and Zayn is saying something about wishing to be the falling ashes. He thinks he could fall in love with Harry if he tried, and that maybe Harry could love him back this time. He leans over the railing and tries to catch the soft grey dust that falls from his cigarette, and stumbles.

He tries to grab onto Harry's shoulder but the words don't come out and Harry's not paying attention. Nothing will come out of his mouth. No scream, no cry, nothing, so his hand grips air as he falls over the edge. When Harry looks down, it's already too late.

The last thing he sees are Harry's eyes twinkling like stars, wide and scared. Mouth open and yelling, but he can't hear anything through the rushing of wind in his ears, heart pounding in his head.

 

And he thinks that if this is what falling in love feels like, he never wants it to end.

 

**Author's Note:**

> idk what to write here....  
> this is my second fic though omfg!! i hope its better than my first???  
> i did it in one day holy cow  
> IM NERVOUS I HOPE YOU LIKED IT  
> tell me whatcha think! :)  
>  
> 
> title and story inspired by the song super rich kids everyone knows that one its so gooooooooood  
> if you don then liiiissteeennn tooo iiiiittttttt  
> OH. and credit goes to the tumblr page "otherwordly" where i got my words and definitions from  
> its such a cool blog go check it outttt


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